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immigrant. As she travels from the factories of Philadelphia to the riverfront wharves of Savannah with her business mentor, James Nolan, the Civil War explodes amidst their blossoming love, and the two are separated. Can Ellen’s undaunted, fiery strength guide her through a divided nation, or must she abandon her dream in order to save her own life?
children of all ages. Twice recognized for her journalism by the Virginia Press Association, Linda and her husband live in western Loudoun County, Virginia, where the Blue Ridge Mountains are the first to greet the dawn.
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Reap and Repent
The Reaper Series Book 1
Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance
Reapers, Demons, Angels, Sex
They see death. Can they share a life?
Ruth Scott can read the energy of every person she meets. Then she meets Deacon Walker. She can see his ice-blue eyes, his black hair, and his gorgeous face. But this beautiful stranger has no aura.
Deacon is just as unsettled by Ruth—and, having spent more than two hundred years ushering souls to Purgatory, Deacon is seldom shocked by anything. As he helps Ruth to understand her true nature, she awakens desires that he decided long ago a Reaper can’t afford.
A demon invasion forces Deacon to confront the darkness in his own past even as he fights to save the human souls he’s charged to protect. When he’s taken captive, his first concern is for Ruth. But Ruth just might be able to save herself—and the Reaper she can’t live without—if she can learn to wield her newfound powers.
Excerpt: Not their first meeting but the first with introductions:
“Ruth, my name is Deacon. You might have noticed that I have some rather unusual abilities. For one, I’m very fast when I want to be. For another, I can affect your mood by touch, which I did just now to calm you. I don’t want to hurt you, but I do need to know a few things. What are you?”
What am I? Uh, a girl would be a good start. What the hell?
She shook her head side to side, indicating “No.”
“No, you don’t understand? Or no, you don’t know what you are?” he asked, obviously growing frustrated.
She shook her head again.
“Okay, this isn’t going to work unless you speak. I don’t read minds, you know.”
Good to know, she thought. What came out was, “I don’t understand.”
“When we ran into each other at the hospital, you had no aura. What are you? Are you a reaper? An angel? Christ on a crutch, you aren’t a valkyrie, are you?” he asked, running a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “I’m betting no on the angel front because the Reiki energy doesn’t seem to work on angels. So what are you?”
“A student. Or, I was a student. Now I’m just… I don’t know what you’re talking about—angels and reapers and valkyries. I’m…human?”
“You are more than human.”
“I’m not. What do you want with me?”
“I want answers. In the hospital, I sensed something about you when we met… Your mother was Mary Scott. Correct? She died in that hospital room while you were there?”
“I didn’t do that. It wasn’t my fault,” she blurted out.
“Okaaay,” he proceeded cautiously. “Did you touch her before you left?”
She considered him, her mouth going dry. She had touched her. She’d given her that final kiss on the forehead.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Ruth couldn’t look at him as she began to realize what all of this might mean. Had her bizarre handicap really killed her father, and now her mother, too?
She was a killer.
“You’re not a killer,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“I thought you couldn’t read minds!” She sobbed, tears choking her throat closed.
It’s my fault. I AM a killer.
“You’re not,” he insisted. “I think you’re a reaper, like me.”
Her heart starting beating faster and her vision started to go blurry around the edges. The whole room sped down a black chute into darkness. She was going to pass out. She was going to
pass out with a strange supernatural man in her house.
God help me.
Lisa has always enjoyed reading about monsters in love and now she writes about them, because monsters need love too.
She adores beasties of all sorts, fictional as well as real, and has a farm full of them in her Southwest Missouri home, including: one child, one husband, two dogs, two cats, a dozen hens, thousands of Italian bees, and a guinea pig.
She may or may not keep a complete zombie apocalypse bug-out bag in her trunk at all times, including a machete. Just. In. Case.
The Enchanted Rose
Genre: YA Paranormal
Number of pages: 135
Word Count: Roughly 45,000
Cover Artist: Consuelo Parra
When Vivian’s mother dies in a tragic accident, Vivian’s world is turned upside down. Her life, as she knows it, is over. A new life, full of her mother’s secrets, begins…
Sent away by her father to live with two eccentric aunts on the mysterious Tremaine Estate, Vivian comes to learn that a powerful curse lurks over her family – one that only she may have the power to break. With each day she spends in Misty Hills, Vivian uncovers more unsettling discoveries about the town, her reclusive family, and herself.
Can Vivian let go of every truth she’s ever believed and discover who she really is, before the dark secrets hidden within the supernatural town threaten to consume her and those she loves?
“Actually, I lived abroad. I just moved back to the US. My dad sent me to live with my aunts when my…” My breath hitched. I couldn’t say the words aloud. The bus driver gave me a sympathetic look in the mirror. I realized he must have noticed me carrying the urn. I sank lower in my seat, staring out the window at the dreary landscape. Grey clouds covered the sun and bleached the color out of our surroundings. The only familiar thing at the moment was the fog rolling over the hills. It reminded me of San Francisco, where I’d lived the last few months. I had been so excited to move there. How could I have known it would end in such tragedy?
“Well, Misty Hills may not be the most exciting place to live, but there are plenty of stories about it.”
“What kind of stories?” I had tried googling it, but the search engine hadn’t yielded much information. It was as if that one town in Colorado were cut off from all technology.
“All sorts of things. There are rumors that the original founders of the town were runaway witches from Salem. You know, from the Salem witch hunts back in the day?”
“Really?” I felt pretty skeptical. “So, they’re superstitious?”
“A little. I’ve heard all kinds of wild tales about the goings-on in Misty Hills. Too many crazy stories, but I guess the sources aren’t the most reputable. Try to take in as much as you can right now because we’re arriving around the time the sun sets.”
I hadn’t believed my father was serious about sending me away until he instructed me to get on the bus. I begged to stay with him, but he was adamant. I got angry and threatened to run away as soon as I arrived at my aunts’ house. He asked me to come to terms with what had happened. What about me? I thought. Don’t I get to have some time to get used to having lost my mother? Do I have to lose my father too?
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About the Author:
Nadia Nader lives in Kuwait with her family.
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Dancing to an Irish Reel
Genre: Romantic Fiction
Publisher: Vinspire Publishing
Date of Publication: March 3, 2015
Number of pages: 220
Word Count: 63,000
Cover Artist: Elaina Lee for the Muse Designs
When twenty-five year old Hailey Crossan leaves her job in Los Angeles’ music business, she takes a trip to the west coast of Ireland where she’s so enchanted, she decides to stay. Walking into the Galway Music Center, she’s offered a job in a budding business alongside three locals, with whom she becomes the best of friends.
Unexpectedly, in what now seems like fate, Hailey meets Liam Hennessey, an astoundingly handsome, regionally famous Irish traditional musician. Liam, who has never been in love before, is so unbalanced at the prospect of love that he
won’t come closer, nor completely go away.
In this rich, layered, tug-of-war along the road to love in rural Ireland, Hailey is surrounded by vibrant characters that help her navigate Ireland’s soulful culture and idiosyncratic ways as she tries to decode her growing relationship with the enigmatic Liam.
A whirlwind foray through the west of Ireland, Hailey comes to Ireland as a fish out of water, but soon ingratiates herself to a land with more soul than any place imaginable.
There’s an energy that hangs between strangers even in a crowd. Call it interest, or attraction, or the knowledge of things to come. It is awareness, and I was aware to the exclusion of all activity around me that Liam Hennessey was watching me. He was sitting at the corner of the bar by himself, and because I could feel his gaze upon me like an electrical current, I froze. I did not move an inch because I sensed I didn’t have to, that something would come about with little prompting from me. I don’t know how I knew this, but I was right, it came about within the hour. It began as a series of introductions to people near Liam, and drew itself closer until Liam was introduced to me.
Right before Leigh left, claiming she had to get up early the next day to drive to Cork, Kieran pointed out that the Irish traditional musicians playing in the corner were the father and older brother of the lad sitting at the end of the bar.
“That’s Liam Hennessey at the bar there,” Kieran gestured to my right. “He’s the best box player in Connemara – even in the whole of Ireland, many say. His family is long in Connemara; they’re all players, so. That’s Sean Liam, his da, and his brother Anthony there on the guitar.” Kieran seemed proud to know the facts. He next took my arm and led me straight to Liam.
“I’ve the pleasure of knowing this American here, her name is Hailey,” Kieran announced to Liam.
I had an uneasy feeling. It’s one thing to suspect you’ll cross paths with someone again, and quite another to be fully prepared when it actually happens. For some unknown reason, I kept thinking it was strange to see Liam this far out in the country from Galway, but then again, what did I know? I didn’t know anything about him.
Liam looked at me with large dark eyes and smiled brightly. He was different than I had imagined: he was friendlier, more candid. I assumed because he looked so dark and mysterious, there would be a personality to match. I assumed he would be reserved, aloof, perhaps arrogant in an artistic sort of way. I was paying close attention, and there was none of that about Liam. In seconds, I realized he was a nice guy. I moved a step to my right as an older man approached the bar.
“Would ye give us a hand there,” the man said to Liam, and for the next few minutes, Liam handed pints over his head to a group of men too far from the bar’s edge to grab the glasses themselves. Just then, Kieran said something that set off a chain of events and put the rest of the night in motion.
“Liam, will you watch Hailey for me, I’m off to join the sessiun.” With that, Kieran produced a harmonica from his shirt pocket and walked off to join the musicians in the corner.
I stood at the bar and waited for the next thing to happen. The world seemed to operate in slow motion. All the noise in the room subsided, and the only thing I knew was I was looking directly at Liam Hennessey. I searched his face for imperfections. I had never before seen such beauty in the face of a man. I hoped my thoughts didn’t show on my face. He was so good looking, I wondered why other people in the room weren’t staring at him, then I realized most of Hughes’ patrons knew him and were probably used to the way he looked. I was reticent, unsure of how to speak to Liam, unfamiliar with how provincial he may or may not have been. Words tend to get in the way in moments like this, but they lay in wait just the same.
“You’re an American, yah?” he asked in that way the Irish have of answering their own question. “I’ve been to America,” he said.
“Where in America?” I encouraged.
“Boston, New York, Chicago. My cousins live in Chicago. I even went all the way to Niagara Falls.”
“Believe it or not, I’ve never been to Niagara Falls. What’s it like?”
“Not much, mind you, it’s a nice enough place, but ten minutes after I saw the falls, I was asking where I could get a nice cup of tea.”
“I imagine it would take a lot to be impressed after living here,” I said.
“I’d never want to live anywhere else. Everything you could ever want is here in Connemara.”
And it is, I thought. Connemara has a sense of peace I’ve never felt before.
“Are you long in Ireland?” he asked.
“I live here,” I said. “I live in Inverin.”
“Ah, so you’re just up the road. Me too.”
At 27-years-old, Liam lived with his parents in the house in which he grew up.He was a world-class Irish traditional musician that traveled often to places like Germany, Austria and New Zealand. He was in demand as a player in touring bands because he was a master at playing the button accordion. As such, he was more than a musician: he was the bearer of a torch that represented the history of an old culture. He brought the language of Irish music to regions that otherwise would have never been enlightened.
Being an Irish traditional musician is a feat not easily arrived at. Rather, it is a feat painstakingly achieved. Most of the tunes in a traditional player’s repertoire have been memorized through listening and repeated execution, as opposed to memorization by reading musical scores. Traditional music has been passed down through generational lines, and with Liam’s family, there had been no interruption. His father was a player, and the world in which Liam grew up was one of constant exposure to traditional music as if it were a language. I came to realize much later that Liam’s first language was music, his second language was Irish, and his third was English.
“So, you must be another American looking for their roots, then,” Liam stated.
If that was a question, then it’s a fair one, I thought.
“Actually, I’m working at the Galway Music Center,” I said, then I followed with my poetry aspirations, hoping to impress upon him I was not just passing through.
Claire Fullerton is the author of Paranormal Mystery, A Portal in Time. She is an award winning essayist, a contributor to numerous magazines (including “Southern Writers Magazine) a former newspaper columnist and a four time contributor to the “Chicken Soup for the Soul” book series.
She hails from Memphis, TN. and now lives in Malibu, CA where she is working on her third novel.